


Snow After Fire

by chloe_amethyst



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Blizzards & Snowstorms, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-11 23:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3336959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chloe_amethyst/pseuds/chloe_amethyst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erestor’s happiness with Glorfindel is nearly complete, except for one important part that eludes them. Will being lost in a blinding snowstorm with one of them injured help them find it?<br/>Written for Aglarien for My Slashy Valentine 2015 (I could not have been more delighted to write for you, my dear friend. Please enjoy, preferably with a hot cup of something).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow After Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aglarien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aglarien/gifts).



Title: Snow After Fire  
Author: Chloe Amethyst  
Email: chloeamethyst@aol.com  
Rating: 14+  
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel  
Warnings: None  
Feedback: Yes, please!  
Beta: Erviniae, the Mighty Wrangler of Hads. All remaining mistakes are mine.

Request: Rating= up to R. Pairing= Erestor/Glorfindel, Story elements= Elves lost in a snowstorm, finding shelter somewhere (or perhaps making a shelter) and surviving together. A nice hurt/comfort romance would be lovely.

Summary: Erestor’s happiness with Glorfindel is nearly complete, except for one important part that eludes them. Will being lost in a blinding snowstorm with one of them injured help them find it? 

Written for Aglarien for My Slashy Valentine 2015 (I could not have been more delighted to write for you, my dear friend. Please enjoy, preferably with a hot cup of something).  
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their ending.” ~J.R.R. Tolkien

“Brew me a cup for a winter’s night.  
For the wind howls loud, and the furies fight;  
Spice it with love and stir it with care,  
And I’ll toast your bright eyes, my sweetheart fair.”

~Minna Thomas Antrim, "A Night Cap"  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Erestor supposed there were many kinds of blindness that had nothing to do with the internal health of one’s eyes. One could be blind drunk, blinded by love, robbed blind, blind to the truth, blind in one’s own cause, blind-sided, and even be the blind leading the blind. 

Although he had never heard the term before, Erestor would have to say, at present, he was blizzard blind, and perhaps blizzard deaf as well. Dry, fine-grained snowflakes blew sideways, pricked his skin, and left him unable to see his hand if held before his face, even though it was daytime. The sky, the ground, and the snow were all the same color of greyish-white. Erestor knew Glorfindel was still beside him only because he felt him there, but he could not see his companion’s face to see how he fared. There was no sound except for cracking tree limbs and the punishing wind, which either roared with gusts that nearly knocked him off his feet, or moaned and whistled as it whipped through the trees and around his cloak.

Nearly eight weeks ago Erestor, Glorfindel, and a company from Imladris set out on a two-fold mission at Lord Elrond’s behest. They were headed toward the northernmost mountains of Hithaeglir to scout for signs of orcs returning to the area around Mount Gundabad. Travelers to Imladris had brought stories that villages of men in the north were being raided, and the displaced villagers badly needed supplies and protection. Glorfindel’s company was sent to render aid and to determine if these were merely roving bands of orcs, or if they were once again occupying Mount Gundabad as an organized threat.

“Gather whatever evidence you can of the enemy’s activity, but do not attempt an assault on the mountain if it looks as though the orcs have indeed taken it with a sizable force,” Lord Elrond had told them. “Return with whatever intelligence you gather, and we will plan our next move. At this point, knowledge is our greatest ally, and ignorance our greatest enemy. Offer the refuge of the Last Homely House to any villagers who need it, but send them with an escort if they accept.”

It had taken a week for the company to ready for departure. Because of the refugees that would be part of the errand, the elves needed to carry with them a great deal more supplies than was typical for an elven company. They would need more food, medicine, clothing, tools for building temporary shelters if needed, and pack animals to carry it all. Erestor had taken command over the relief effort preparations, while Glorfindel had readied the warriors and overseen the conditioning of minds, bodies, and armaments of their company.

The night before they were scheduled to depart Imladris, Elrond provided a great feast. Much pheasant, venison, and wine were consumed, bold boasts were made, and many toasts were offered for the safety and success of the mission.

Late that night, in the quiet of Erestor’s chamber, Glorfindel and Erestor made love well into the wee hours. For the next few weeks, and possibly for months to come, finding moments for intimacy would be nearly impossible surrounded by warriors, refugees, and perhaps orcs in the frozen Misty Mountains. Such was life when answering the call to duty.

They had truly savored each other that night, much like they did years ago when they first fell in love. Glorfindel’s lovemaking was slow and almost studious, as if he was memorizing every plane, curve, firm muscle, and soft patch of skin on Erestor’s body. Erestor luxuriated in the attention and drank it in, equally committing to memory the feel of Glorfindel above him, around him, and inside him. Each gentle sigh, plaintive moan, and panting breath filled his mind as well as his senses, and wrote themselves on his heart.

After they reached the point of utter exhaustion, they settled to sleep on their sides, with Erestor’s back to Glorfindel’s broad chest and wrapped in his warm embrace. But sleep did not come to Erestor right away, and he found himself thinking on the future, more specifically his future with Glorfindel.

“Fin?” Erestor whispered into the dark. “Are you awake?”

“Hmmmm...?” Glorfindel answered sleepily.

“I’ve been doing some thinking.”

“Umm? Bit late for thinking. Perfect time for sleeping, though.”

“I’ve been thinking about us,” Erestor explained. He then felt the exhalation of a deep sigh where his lover’s face was nuzzled into Erestor’s dark hair.

“Darling,” Glorfindel replied, “as much as I enjoy talking about our relationship, we both must be up before the dawn tomorrow. I would prefer to leave Imladris well rested rather than cross from lack of sleep.”

“You hate talking about our relationship,” Erestor protested, “but I think we need to talk before we go.” Erestor again felt another deep sigh exhaled.

“Very well, Erestor, go on. I don’t sense that you’ll be letting this go.”

“It’s just that we’re once again about to leave Imladris to risk our lives, as we have in the past and I’m sure we will again. We can’t ever be sure of the outcome. One of us might even perish, although it pains me to say it.”

“We will be fine, Erestor. Remember that you’ll be travelling with me, the mighty Glorfindel, who causes maidens to swoon, dwarves to hide in their caverns, and orcs to shake in their slippers,” Glorfindel jokingly replied with a merry laugh and a quick tickle to Erestor’s side.

“Orcs don’t wear slippers, and please be serious.”

“Oi. Very well, Erestor. As you wish.”

“I think,” Erestor continued, “that we should ask Elrond to marry us before we depart. Just a quick ceremony and a blessing in his chambers, and then we’ll plan a more formal ceremony and celebration for later after our return.”

“Erestor, we’ve already talked about this. Oh, so many times. We don’t need to get married. I know I love you, you know I love you, and I know you love me; therefore, why do we need formal words and others gawking at us while we say words to prove it? We don’t. We have each other. That’s all we need. Now may we please go to sleep?”

“No, we cannot. I want to be bound to you, for all time, with our loved ones and the Valar as witnesses to our bond. No matter what may happen to either of us, we will have shared the ultimate expression of our love and commitment to each other.” Erestor had pleaded his case on matrimony before, but Glorfindel had never budged. His obstinacy was utterly confounding.

“Erestor, please. I could not, in any way, be more committed and in love with you than I am right now. Now and forever, I am yours! Please, please believe me!” The pleading tone in Glorfindel’s voice seemed to hold a deep melancholy that Erestor did not understand, so he thought it best to let go of his argument for the time being, kiss Glorfindel goodnight, and go to sleep.

The company set off as planned the next morning. The farther north they travelled, the colder the climate became and the more difficult the terrain. Along the way, the company veered off their main trajectory to visit more isolated settlements on the rocky slopes of the mountain range. Some villagers had experienced no trouble, while others were nearly completely decimated. Fields around their ruined cottages were left empty of crops, but full of many shallow graves. Those left alive were mostly very old or very young, thin as reeds and dressed in rags. They greeted the elves with equal measures of awe and suspicion, which quickly turned to gratitude and blessings when they saw the provisions the elves brought for them and how expertly they tended to the wounded.

Each time they stopped, Erestor interviewed as many of the people as he could to learn details about the orc attacks. The marauding bands were disorganized and not large enough to be direct evidence of an armed host, but there were so many recent attacks spread out over such a wide area that the presence of a centralized orc stronghold was likely. The trail of attacks led straight to Mount Gundabad.

Glorfindel organized platoons of warriors to escort back to the Last Homely House those who accepted Elrond’s offer of refuge. Erestor saw to it that provisions were left for those who remained, after which the elves would set off for the north again with their company of diminishing size.

As they grew closer to the mountain, the terrain had become so treacherous that their horses had to be left behind along with a warrior to watch them. The rest of the journey consisted of several days of scrambles over giant boulders and climbs up sheer cliff faces, until they arrived at a high enough elevation to see for miles around.

One frosty night after they made camp, Erestor and Glorfindel sat together during first watch while the rest of their companions slept. A thousand stars shown down with their cold light and quiet was all around them. Erestor decided this was as good a time as any to get some answers to questions that were troubling him.

“Is it me, Fin?” Erestor asked quietly.

“Hmm? Beg your pardon?” Glorfindel sounded confused and vaguely alarmed.

“Am I the reason you don’t want to get married? Is there something lacking in me?”

“No, no, of course not, Erestor. You are everything to me. I could not wish for more.”

“Then why? Why do you not want to get married? After all, that’s what elves do: ask for blessings on their bond and get married. Why don’t you want those things with me?” Erestor heard a muffled groan escape from Glorfindel. “Just give me a reason that makes sense, Fin. A real reason. Then I promise I won’t bother you about marriage again, but I have to know. Otherwise I’ll be forever wondering.”

Glorfindel sat silent, staring at the ground for a minute or two, his jaw grinding as he thought, and a deep sadness settling in his eyes. When he turned to speak to Erestor, he spoke slowly and carefully.

“There is no one that I could or ever would love more than I love you, Erestor. I swear to Eru, that is the truth, and I have also longed to be bonded to you.”

Erestor blinked in surprise. Glorfindel paused for a moment before continuing, his voice now sounding pained.

“As you know, as is told in the stories, I was married long ago. I had a family, a home, and we were happy. Then, it was all taken from me. Everyone I loved and cared for was slain or consumed in flames. I knew I could not bear it and live, but then I didn’t have to. When my life was taken as well, there was nothing but the void. No memory, no sensation, no good nor evil, no joy nor sorrow. Just eternal silence.”

Erestor felt his eyes grow moist, but he fought back tears. He had always known the story of Glorfindel of Gondolin, his fall, and his return to Arda in service to Lord Elrond. This was a life of which Glorfindel of Imladris never spoke, and it had felt to Erestor almost like a faint mist that faded with the dawn--unseen and without affect to the growing light of day.

“Then, I came back,” Glorfindel continued. “I wondered why, but mostly kept my thoughts on my duties to Elrond to keep the past at bay. Then I met you, and I fell in love, which is a thing I had thought impossible. I had believed that part of my heart was firmly sealed shut. You opened it again, Erestor, and my heart could not be any fuller than with the love I have for you.”

Erestor wanted to stop Glorfindel’s explanation, stop the pain this conversation was causing his lover, but Glorfindel continued, and Erestor listened.

“If I could, I would marry you. Perhaps I’m superstitious, or a fool, or a coward, but when I think of standing together and saying the words that would bind us, thoughts of future joy are somehow yanked from me. My mind goes straight back to Gondolin, I feel the flames and the loss, and I know I cannot survive the grief of losing my bonded mate again. I know it isn’t logical, perhaps not rational, but I can’t seem to defeat it. My love for you is so strong, but I am so weak. Do you hate me now?”

A moment passed while Erestor tried to make his throat work but could not. Instead he reached for Glorfindel and pulled him into his embrace and held on tightly. He felt a small tremble in Glorfindel’s strong body and dampness on his cheek, so he began to rock him ever so slightly. As they held onto each other, Erestor was eventually able to whisper, “It’s alright, and I understand now. It’s alright. I love you.”

After that night, their attention was necessarily turned back to their mission. Traveling stealthily as they always did, the remaining elves came within ten leagues of Mount Gundabad’s conjoined peaks. They observed orcs coming and going in the direction of the mountain in great enough numbers to prove that an organized host was rising. They had seen enough; it was time to return to Imladris with haste. 

Unfortunately, the weather and the orcs had other plans for them. Erestor estimated that their now small company was within two days of reaching their horses, when a sunny but cold sky suddenly turned dark. Roiling clouds, some the color of midnight, had appeared above the peaks and moved with astonishing quickness to block out the sun. The temperature dropped so fast and so far that Erestor felt his lungs tighten when the frigid air hit them. The wind began to roar and tried to pluck the stunted trees out of their rocky strongholds. The sheer ferocity of the storm, having come upon them so quickly, told Erestor that a fell magic had been cast to impede the elves’ retreat, and thus the enemy must have seen them.

“Move! Move!” Glorfindel shouted above the din. “Hinnoron! Bregon! Watch the rear but stay together!”

The surefootedness of elves was certainly among Eru’s greatest blessings, as was their keen eyesight. But that storm, enchanted as it was, had countered their gifts with its evil intensity. Although they still were able to walk on the top of the snow, visibility became so poor that they all slipped and slid down the rocky trail, not able to see in front of them to watch their steps. Nor did they see the group of orcs that waited for them behind a stand of scrubby trees and boulders.

Erestor pulled his sword from the scabbard and heard the other elves draw theirs, and then he swung and slashed at every dark, hulking shape he could make out through the storm. He knew that Glorfindel fought very near him because he heard the rhythm of Glorfindel’s fighting, born of millennia of practice and ultimate mastery that made him the greatest warrior on Arda. Erestor could not, however, see any of their companions, and as the skirmish went on, the sound of their swords clashing with the enemy grew more distant. Erestor and Glorfindel fought on, and eventually got the upper hand. The foul scent of black orc blood began to fill Erestor’s nostrils even with the storm covering the bodies as rapidly as it could with fresh snow.

The stream of orcs slowed to a trickle, and after Erestor dispatched the last, he turned to find Glorfindel. He saw nothing but swirling snow, and then Glorfindel’s shout followed by a deep groan reached his ears, and Erestor felt an icy grip of fear take hold of his heart.

“Fin! I’m coming! Fin!” As fast as he could, Erestor ran straight into the wind toward the direction of Glorfindel’s voice and barely made out the shape of his lover down on the ground and struggling to get up. Two massive orcs closed in on Glorfindel, their mouths open and showing their pointed fangs as they moved in for the kill. Erestor leapt with all his might into the air, and his feet connected with the closest orc, knocking it to the ground. Twisting at the last second so he could land on his feet, Erestor then thrust his sword into the standing orc with a fatal blow, and then turned to dispatch the one on the ground wondering what had hit him.

Erestor froze in a fighting stance waiting for any more attackers, but there were none, so he dropped to the ground beside Glorfindel and reached for his hand. Glorfindel lay back in the snow, clutching his right side near his hip with his left hand, sword still in his right. There was red blood on his forehead from a wound above his hairline, and splatters of dark orc blood were all over him, even splashed in his golden hair.

“Erestor? So nice to see you,” Glorfindel said with a slur. “Are you well?”

“Am I well?! Aiya, what have they done to you? You’re a bit of a mess, love.” Erestor peered at Glorfindel’s head wound, and then pulled aside his leathers and clothing underneath to see the wound on his side bleeding freely. He grabbed his pack from around his back and pulled out some cloth to press over the wound.

“The others. Where are they?” Glorfindel asked.

“I don’t know. I lost sight of them in the storm as I fought.” Erestor sent a silent prayer to Eru that their companions would be victorious and kept from harm.

“Help me up, Erestor. We have to find them.”

Thus began an irritating and fruitless debate with his hardheaded Glorfindel on the severity of his wounds and the folly of wandering about in a blizzard while bleeding. This brought them to their current state: Glorfindel’s arm draped over Erestor’s shoulder, his lover leaning heavily on Erestor for support, while they stumbled blind through a raging snowstorm wrought by some dark wizardry.

Glorfindel’s stumbles and painful grunts became more frequent, and his legs seemed to collapse underneath him, causing him to cry out in pain and nearly take Erestor down with him. Erestor knew they had to abandon the search for their companions and find shelter so he could tend to his beloved. With Glorfindel leaning more and more heavily on him, Erestor steered them to a rock wall that he could barely see. Surely there had to be a stony outcropping or recess where they could rest and hide from orcs who might come wandering. Getting back to their companions would have to wait.

Peering under a huge slab of stone that protruded from the rocks about eight feet high, Erestor saw a small sheltered space that extended several feet under the granite that sat on top like a massive roof.

“Just a little further, Fin. We’re going to rest here for a bit out of the wind. Then I can get a good look at you.” Even with Glorfindel right next to him, Erestor had to shout over the wind. Because Erestor’s left arm was wrapped around the warriors left side, he could feel that Glorfindel was breathing hard with exertion and exhaustion.

“No rest,” Glorfindel panted. “We need to go on. Have to find them.”

“We will, but first we have to rest, or you are going to collapse and take me down with you. As much as I love your company, I don’t wish to spend the rest of the winter dead at the bottom of some ravine we’ve toppled into.” Erestor slowly maneuvered Glorfindel as far into the recessed rock as he could, which was a testament to how weak the warrior was.

“I am in charge you know, Erestor. You can’t make me stop here if I say we must go on.”

“Then consider this a mutiny, Fin. You can court martial me as soon as we’re back in Imladris, but I have a very good case against you as unfit for duty,” Erestor joked. “Now shut up and pretend to cooperate with me for once.”

It was dark under the rock, but without the snow in front of his eyes, Erestor could easily see what lay around them. Neither wild animals nor orcs were hiding there. He eased a gasping and grunting Glorfindel down to the rocky floor as gently as he could, and then gathered dry leaves and dead branches. He got a small fire going with his flint, and then put their water skins, the contents frozen solid, next to the warmth to thaw. Next, he used the light to get a closer look at Glorfindel.

The warrior was nearly frozen, and his clothes were soaked through with sweat that had chilled in the frigid air. Erestor pulled everything out of both of their packs; the contents were thankfully dry, and he got Glorfindel out of his sodden uniform and under some blankets. The wound on his head had stopped bleeding but his scalp and forehead around the wound were swollen and tender. The wound above his hip was more severe. An orc blade had sliced through into the muscle, and blood still oozed from the wound. Erestor folded up a shirt from his pack and used it to press firmly against the flow, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Glorfindel.

“I’m sorry, Fin. I don’t know how you walked with me as far as you did with this wound.”

Glorfindel closed his eyes and the corner of his mouth turned up in a small smile despite the pain. “No need to be sorry. You weren’t the one trying to kill me, love. Thank you for saving my life, by the way. If you hadn’t come when you did...”

“Hold your ‘thank you’ until we’re home and you’re well. Then I want you to thank me long and hard, in several different positions.” That elicited a bigger smile from his beloved.

Eventually the flow of blood lessened to a seep, and Erestor dressed the wound by packing it with herbal unguents and bandaging with more cloth. Glorfindel bit his lip to keep from crying out. Retrieving a water skin, Erestor poured the melted water into Glorfindel’s parched mouth, and then wet a bit of cloth to wipe away the orc blood splattered over Glorfindel’s face and neck. The filth befouling Glorfindel’s beautiful golden hair would have to wait.

“Oh, look. There’s quite a handsome elf under all this muck.” 

Glorfindel opened his eyes and gazed tenderly up at Erestor. “You are very beautiful to me,” he said. Reaching his trembling hand up to cup the back of Erestor’s head, he pulled his beloved down for a tender kiss. “I thought I would never see you again,” Glorfindel whispered. 

“But I am here, and so are you,” Erestor whispered back and stroked his hand over Glorfindel’s cheek. “And we will be together a very long time. Now, take your ease. Try to sleep. You’ll need your strength for when our warriors find us.”

“Do you think they will find us?”

“Of course. After all, you trained them in tracking, so they learned from the best. Besides, I can already hear the storm quieting down. The power of whatever conjured it must be fading. Now go to sleep as I said. You’ll need to summon all the vigor you can to protect your ‘mighty Glorfindel’ image when our warriors arrive.” That brought a smile to Glorfindel’s lips before he shut his eyes. Soon his face relaxed completely into sleep while Erestor gently stroked his hair. Erestor lay down on Glorfindel’s good side and moved close, but he would not sleep, instead keeping watch, his sword and dagger laying at the ready by his other side.

The snow slowed to mere flurries as the night passed, and the deep quiet that comes after snowfall settled all about the rocky slopes. Erestor checked on Glorfindel periodically through the night, and, thankfully, his condition grew no worse. As the dawn approached, Erestor made plans for when the other warriors found them. They would make a litter for Glorfindel, meet back up with their horses, and make for the nearest village where they would be able to treat Glorfindel further and rest for a few days before setting off for Imladris. Erestor planned it all out while staring up at the granite roof above them.

Glorfindel woke with a sigh, turned his face, and nuzzled Erestor’s cheek with his nose. He paused for a moment and whispered softly into Erestor’s ear.

“Marry me, Erestor. I want us to be bonded, before all of Imladris, until the end of our days. Will you marry me?”

Erestor bolted upright and laid a palm on Glorfindel’s brow to check for fever, then pulled off the blanket and started checking under bandages. “Merciful, Eru! One of your wounds must have gone septic! You’re delirious!”

“No, wait, that’s not...I’m alright...”

Erestor frantically peered under bandages and poked at the wounds. “Maybe the blade was poisoned! Are you dizzy? Sweating? Dry mouth? Cramps?!”

“No! I’m neither fevered nor poisoned!” Glorfindel caught Erestor’s probing hands in his. “I’m just...ready. Perhaps it took a knock on the head from an orc to put some sense into me, but I know I want this. Please, Erestor, will you have me?”

“Of course I will, you silly elf!” Erestor held Glorfindel’s face in both his hands and carefully leaned over to kiss him with both joy and longing. When the kiss finally ended, he felt a great peace descend over him, as if the Valar had blessed him with a sudden certainty that Glorfindel would be fine and they would spend the rest of their days united by a holy bond. Erestor rested on his elbow, his face inches from Glorfindel’s. “What made you change your mind?”

“I’m not sure. When I awoke, and I felt you still next to me, I just knew we must be bonded. It’s as if all my fears had been quieted, just as the storm had quieted. There was no longer any storm of doubt inside me; all that remained was the certainty that we must be married, and that I want that with all my heart.”

Erestor smiled and then leaned down to kiss Glorfindel again. Now he knew that it was indeed the will of the Valar that they be bonded, and they had helped his beloved to break free from the sadness of another lifetime.

The sound of a distant shout reached their ears. “My lords! Can you hear me?”

Erestor got to his feet and ran out from underneath the great slab of rock. “Here! Over here,” he shouted. Out of the trees emerged first one warrior, then another, and another, and eventually all of their companions who fought the orcs. They looked a bit worse for wear, but thankfully they were alive. 

Eagerly the warriors gathered around their wounded commander, expressed their concern for him, and exchanged tales of what happened after the skirmish. They shared waybread with Glorfindel and Erestor while they rested for a bit, and then set about building a sturdy litter that would allow them to carry their commander out of the mountains. Erestor walked alongside his betrothed.

“I hope you realize that just because you are wounded, you are not excused from helping with the wedding planning,” Erestor said.

“What? Planning? What is there to plan? We tell Elrond to marry us, drink a lot of wine with our friends, and then retire to our bedchamber for the best part.”

“Ha! I’m afraid it’s not that simple. We must decide who to invite, whether to be married in the Great Hall or the garden, choose the music for the ceremony, select the menu to be served at the feast, choose the clothes we’ll wear, decide upon the rings...”

“After all that, I won’t have any strength left for the bedchamber part.”

Erestor chuckled. “Don’t worry. The ‘mighty Glorfindel’ has never failed me, and never will.” Erestor looked fondly at Glorfindel and the love he saw in his eyes. Then he looked ahead, ready to meet any challenge that may come, with his beloved by his side.

-End-


End file.
